


Come As You Are

by mirawonderfulstar



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angel Wings, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Crossdressing, Established Relationship, Genderfluid Character, Halloween Costumes, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top Aziraphale (Good Omens), Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 13:17:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16476290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirawonderfulstar/pseuds/mirawonderfulstar
Summary: Come as you are, as you were, as I want you to be...Aziraphale isn't sure how he feels about Crowley's choice of Halloween costume.





	Come As You Are

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Something Ordinary](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14355552) by [literature_and_ocean_waves](https://archiveofourown.org/users/literature_and_ocean_waves/pseuds/literature_and_ocean_waves). 



> me, apparently, reading a one-off line in a fluffy "Aziraphale and Crowley raise Adam" fic: hmm that's a nice smut concept, what if I made it angst about angels and demons and identity?

It was a cold day at the very end of October. The sky was slate-grey, the wind was blowing the last of the autumn leaves down from the trees, and Aziraphale was curled up on the couch in the back room with a mug of cocoa and a collection of short stories by Edgar Allan Poe.

Technically he was supposed to be working—dark forces and all that—but the truth was nothing particularly bad ever happened on Halloween. Aziraphale was fairly sure that whatever power the day had once held, either good or evil, had long since been coopted by the humans who celebrated it. And goodness knew any thwarting he might have once had to do on this particular holiday had been steadily decreasing to zero with the growing popularity of the haunted house. Crowley wouldn’t sit through most horror and had been known to jump at unexpected sounds but was infatuated with walking through dark artificial residences and being yelled at by people in costume. Aziraphale couldn’t pretend to understand it but it meant he was free to sit inside and read instead of keeping an eye on the neighborhood, so he didn’t question it overly much. Best not to look a gift-demon in the mouth, as it were.

The evening darkened around him, and he got up to light some candles before returning to his book. A small shiver passed through him, and he blinked. There was a draft.

The bell on the front door jingled as it shut, and Aziraphale put his book down again, irritated. “We’re closed!”

“I know.” Crowley called back cheerfully. Aziraphale let out a small breath of relief.

“I’m in the back.”

“I know.” Crowley repeated, coming to lean in the doorway with his arms crossed. He looked around the room and his face split in a grin.

“Enjoying yourself, angel?” He gestured towards the candles and Aziraphale’s book sitting on the coffee table. The front cover bore a large illustration of a raven.

“I _like_ Halloween.” Aziraphale sniffed, “Anyway, _you_ clearly aren’t, or you’d be at that new attraction in Covent Garden instead of here.”

“I was on my way there earlier, actually. Got sidetracked.”

“By what, dare I ask?” Aziraphale stood up and headed across the room to pull down wine glasses and get a bottle of red off the rack by the stove. He set the drinks down on the coffee table and gestured for Crowley to sit down. He didn’t. He was working on the buttons of his coat, a long herringbone thing Aziraphale had seen him wear only rarely. Aziraphale felt his mouth go dry as Crowley slid the coat off his shoulders and set it on the couch.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale started, completely unsure what he was planning to say, because Crowley was wearing long white gloves and a short white dress with a corset, and unfurling his wings from his back and stepping closer with the same slow, methodical movements he’d used taking off the coat. It made something squirm, both plesantly and less so, in his stomach, watching Crowley pace towards him with that look in his eye like he was already thinking about Aziraphale inside him and was enjoying it very much, but also like he was just waiting for Aziraphale to say something impolite and stupid and was guarding against it.

“You look beautiful.” Is what Aziraphale murmured, and Crowley blinked.

“Okay.” He said, uncertainty in his voice. “This was a bad joke, angel, but…”

Aziraphale looked at him, at the way the lines of his body had shifted slightly to conform to the dress, his angular face softened in candlelight and anticipation. “Was it?”

“No.” Crowley said, and surged forward. Aziraphale caught him, pulled him close, kissed him back hungrily. Crowley shivered as Aziraphale’s hands settled on his hip and the small of his back. The fabric of the dress was very thin and Crowley felt chilled beneath it.

He took charge of the kiss, swallowing the sounds Crowley was making, and backed him against the old dark wood of the nearest wall. Crowley let out a ragged breath as Aziraphale pushed him up against it. His wings beat spasmodically behind him.

“ _Aziraphale_.” He gasped, and Aziraphale pressed an open-mouthed kiss to his neck.

“You’re beautiful.” Aziraphale said again, and Crowley shuddered under his touch, under his mouth, which was now trailing kisses along his collarbone.

“M’not. M’wearing a cheap costume for a laugh, Aziraphale.” Crowley let out a breathless chuckle. “Is this actually working for you?” He rolled his hips against Aziraphale’s and the angel made an effort to show just how much it _was_ working for him, pushing up against Crowley with a little exhalation. Crowley choked out a sound and Aziraphale smiled against his skin.

“You’re beautiful in it.” Aziraphale said, trying to get his mouth to string words together when it wqs rapidly losing interest in anything that wasn’t kissing every inch of Crowley it could reach. “You’re so _you_ , my dear.”

“I’m not even going to pretend to know what that means.” Crowley snorted, but he was smiling, beaming even, as Aziraphale pulled back to look him in the eye. He was radiant.

“How do you want me?” Aziraphale asked, one hand coming up to brush Crowley’s hair out of his eyes. His other hand was sliding up Crowley’s thigh, feeling the cool skin there and the edges of the short dress. Crowley rolled his hips again, catching Aziraphale’s clothed cock and making him sigh with pleasure.

“Upstairs.” 

Aziraphale nodded and lifted Crowley, who wrapped his legs around Aziraphale’s hips and his wings around both of their shoulders and kissed him while Aziraphale rearranged the world around them until they were in the little room above with the slanted ceiling and the yellowing lace curtains on the window. Aziraphale could feel Crowley smiling against his lips.

”What’s funny, dear?”

”Just that it’s a good job we can do that because I don’t think we’d ever make it up the stairs like this.” Crowley said feverishly, his hands already working on the buttons of Aziraphale’s shirt. 

Aziraphale set him down on the edge of the neatly made double bed and looked at him, fondness overtaking arousal at the forefront of his mind. “I suppose we’re fortunate to be angels, then.” 

“Sssssspeak for yourself.” Crowley said as he pushed Aziraphale’s trousers and pants down off his hips. “I only look like one. Probably more than you, at the moment.” Crowley nudged Aziraphale’s erection with a pleased smirk and Aziraphale felt something catch in his throat.

“Would you like me to do something about that?” Aziraphale asked, his fingers playing with the feather-patterned edge of the dress. Crowley swallowed visibly and nodded.

The fabric was smooth and soft but not nearly as pleasant as Crowley’s skin, on display as Aziraphale pushed the dress up his thighs and stomach and chest and slid it off over his head. Crowley made to remove the gloves and Aziraphale caught his now bare hand in his own, pressing a kiss to his palm and eliciting a soft gasp of surprise. Aziraphale did it again and felt Crowley’s fingertips curl against his cheek. 

“I love you.” Aziraphale said, so quietly someone with mortal hearing might have missed it. Crowley didn't say anything, letting out a little sigh of contentment, and Aziraphale laid him back on the bed and crawled on top of him, one hand propping himself up while the other slid down the length of Crowley's body and between his legs. 

Crowley's mouth dropped open with a gasp of pleasure as Aziraphale ran his fingers through the slick heat of him, his eyes fluttering shut. Aziraphale watched greedily, loving the shudder that ran through the demon when Aziraphale curled his fingers just so. He truly was beautiful like this, open and aching and Aziraphale, incredibly, blessedly, able to give to him exactly what it was he wanted.

“Angel,” Crowley croaked, and Aziraphale leaned down to kiss him.

“You’re mine.” he said, working his fingers faster. “Fallen or not.”

Crowley’s wings beat against the mattress and he raised his hips enough to pull away from Aziraphale’s hand. “Fuck me.” The words sent a jolt of heat through Aziraphale that made his hand falter, and Crowley grabbed his wrist. "I want your cock in me, angel."

Aziraphale spread Crowley's legs and pushed into him, the sound of Crowley hissing with pleasure making him somehow even harder. "How is that?" He asked, mostly because he liked listening to Crowley try to string words together when they were like this, which Crowley, fortunately, was fully aware of. 

"It’sssss good, angel, ssssssso good." Aziraphale smiled and leaned down to kiss him, starting to move. Crowley whimpered periodically, angling his hips against Aziraphale's and raking his nails down his back. His wings twitched with the occasional deep thrust, and Aziraphale let his out as well, draping them down around them, sheltering them in the dim room from whatever spirits may yet lurk at the end of October.

Crowley's face was contorted with pleasure, and Aziraphale thought he’d trade all of Heaven for this, this moment of bliss with him. Not that he’d ever be asked to; angels didn’t fall for things like love, not ever, not really. Angels fell for doubt, and Aziraphale, watching his demon writhe below him, had never been more sure of anything.

They kept pace for a while, Crowley letting out little sounds every now and then as Aziraphale’s cock worked him, neither of them in any hurry for it to be over. At some point Crowley pulled Aziraphale down and let his teeth graze over his neck, and Aziraphale shut his eyes and willed himself not to come.

“Asssssiraphale.” Crowley gasped, laughing a little. “If I’d known you wanted your neck bitten I’d have dressed as a vampire.”

“Maybe next year.” Aziraphale said, gripping Crowley’s hips and angling them both just a touch differently. Crowley’s laughter was swallowed up by the sound of them both gasping as Aziraphale’s fingers returned to Crowley’s clit and he tightened reflexively around the angel's cock.

Crowley’s head was thrown back, his mouth open, his eyes half-lidded and unfocused, his tongue flicking out every now and again to wet his lips. “Don’t stop.” His voice was rough with desire and Aziraphale felt himself throb with it. “Fuck, Aziraphale, you feel so good.” Aziraphale’s breath hitched and Crowley smirked. “I know you like that, you like it when I tell you how good you are, angel, you’re so good inside me. Love the way you feel fucking me.” Aziraphale closed his eyes and he felt Crowley reach up to press their lips together, sighing into his mouth.

“Crowley—” Aziraphale started to say, and then he was coming, feeling Crowley tumble over the edge right along with him, the two of them gasping and shuddering against each other.

It was several moments before either of them moved or spoke. Aziraphale vanished the mess between them and Crowley let out a small sound of surprise and something else as Aziraphale climbed off of him and snuggled up against him on the bed.“I…”

“You don’t have to say anything, my dear.” Aziraphale murmured. “I know.”

Crowley looked immensely relieved and kissed Aziraphale again, slowly and contentedly, before folding his wings back in and curling into Aziraphale's waiting arms. Aziraphale smoothed his hair back from his forehead.

“You really are beautiful.” He said, very softly, and Crowley let out a snort.

“Sure, angel.”

“You know you are.”

“I know I am. Doesn’t make me any less…” He sighed, exhausted.

Aziraphale kept petting his hair, knowing that there was nothing he could say. He loved Crowley more than Creation, and wouldn’t have changed a single thing about himself or his demon or any of the vast, sprawling complicated thing that was _them_ , but sometimes he felt that whatever they might do together or be to each other, he'd never be able to make Crowley let go of the impossible pain of believing, desperately, that he should be someone else. 


End file.
